By Dylan Thomas
Your breath was shed
Invisible to make
About the soiled undead
Night for my sake,
A raining trail
Intangible to them
With biter's tooth and tail
And cobweb drum,
A dark as deep
My love as a round wave
To hide the wolves of sleep
And mask the grave.
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I have holiday cards! And I would have address labels, but my printer needs ink before I can print them out. So they will go out next week, and the ones going to Europe may be a bit late for Christmas but will be there for the new year with any luck. My cats were pleased about my drive to retrieve the cards and various CVS items because it meant that they were left home alone to sleep on the vents as they pleased, even though it was nearly 60 degrees and the heat wasn't even on. That, and the delivery of various holiday presents, and some fairly dull work, were the major occupations of my Thursday.
I know Facebook is an evil corporation from which we're supposed to be finding ways to wean ourselves, but they keep doing things that suck me in further, like the new Timeline -- I am sure there will be much screaming when it replaces everyone's profile page like there was much screaming about the new home pages (and I still hate that Facebook thinks it knows what my favorite stories should be, and who my best friends are, and that I like Lady Gaga better than Paul Simon which is utterly false), but there is a lot I like about the new home page and I totally love the Timeline. I just had to get that off my chest.
The Virginia Museum of Fine Arts did not allow photography in the Mummy: Secrets of the Tomb exhibit because the items belong to the British Museum, but they had entertaining dressed-up mummies in the gift shops and if you look past the replicas, you can see some of the actual tomb artifacts through the doorways behind them:
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